The Ties That Bind
by Center of the Galaxy
Summary: Gamora thought she had left the past behind her. She should've known better. Of course, Thanos would want her back and she knows that he'll stop at nothing to bring his favorite daughter home. *hurt!Gamora, slow build Peter/Gamora, team-fic*


_**Author's Note: **__I wish the movie had delved more into Gamora's past with Thanos. This is the product of me deciding to fulfill that wish. This is set post-movie with no history of the comics. I'm not sure how many chapters this will be. Probably like 4 or 5. We'll see. Please enjoy!_

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"_And I've been wrong, I've been down,_

_Been to the bottom of every bottle_

_These five words in my head_

_Scream "Are we having fun yet?"_

—_Nickelback, "How You Remind Me"_

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Gamora often wondered how she found herself in these crazy situations.

"Let's just take it easy here." Peter drawled, voice soothing, though she could hear his footsteps coming closer, drawing him to her side.

They'd been taking a shortcut to rendezvous with the rest of the team in the marketplace of this planet and then head back to the ship for the night. She hadn't bothered to remember the name—they visited so many places now, it was hard to keep track of—but they hadn't gotten more than ten steps before they'd gotten jumped.

"Do not move." The masked man growled, thrusting the gun in her line of sight. He spoke with an accent, clearly struggling to remember the words in the Terran dialect. She couldn't blame him—most of the species in the galaxy spoke the language of their own planet as their mother language, though it became a necessity to learn others to get by. The Terran language "English" was deemed to be simple enough for anyone to pick up and thus, many school children learned it along with what other languages were predominantly spoken in their corner of the universe.

"Peter." She cautioned, sizing the man with the gun up. His arms were locked and his eyes were steady. He wasn't panicking, which made it harder for her to overpower him. Yet, there was the fact that there were two of them vs. the one of him. It would be easy to—

"You've got her." A voice stated as four more men emerged from the shadows of the ally that they'd been caught in. "Greetings, Lady Gamora." He held his open palm up and beamed.

She stiffened; he chuckled.

"You remember me, don't you?" The man with the pale red skin, spiked white hair and coal eyes—the leader clearly, judging by his commanding presence—smirked as he regarded her. He wore no mask and his skin seemed to shine under the floating streetlights. His gaze narrowed and she stifled a gasp.

"Nage." She practically hissed, though she kept her own body language relaxed. He'd changed since the last time she encountered him. He was no longer the scrawny teenager that she once knew. No, he'd grown into his taller frame; muscles evident even under his black pants and white shirt. His nose was pierced and the scar across his shoulder from where Thanos had run him through was now displayed like a proud war scar, not the abuse that it actually was.

"You know this guy?" Peter questioned and Nage smirked, like the cat that caught the canary.

"So, my Lady, this is the company you keep?" Nage jabbed a finger in Peter's direction and sighed dramatically, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "My, my, how far you have fallen."

"What do you want, Nage?" She snapped, moving towards him, only for four guns to suddenly become trained on her. She froze and cursed under her breath. The tables had clearly turned.

"Why, I thought that was obvious." Nage shrugged. Then, gesturing to the hired thugs and the guns he added, "This is a rescue mission."

"Rescue mission?" Peter echoed, confusion entering his tone. He placed a hand on her back, silently reassuring her that she was not alone in this, that he would back her play. "Buddy, I don't know where you went to school, but generally, a 'rescue' doesn't usually mean pointing guns in your comrade's face. In fact—"

The man beside him jabbed him in the stomach with the back of his gun, causing Peter to double over and cough.

"Peter—!" She moved to him, but he waved off her concern with that trademark smile of his.

"You've had your fun, Lady Gamora." Nage's expression hardened; his coal black eyes grew unyielding. "It's time for you to return home. Lord Thanos has been worried."

Thanos wasn't worried about her, no. He'd only treated her like a toy, someone to do his dirty work for him. She'd come so far from being that woman. There was no way she would return to him—to that life—again. She'd die before that happened.

"I refuse." She stated bluntly. "You may return to Thanos and inform him that the day I come to him is the day he'll die."

"That's my girl." Peter murmured under his breath as he finally stood up. His cheeks were flushed, but his breathing evened out. He had his weapons on him, but he needed a chance to activate them without drawing too much attention. Now that they were outnumbered and their assailants had precision guns, he couldn't risk it.

"I see you haven't lost your fire, my Lady." Nage laughed, running a hand through his spiked black hair. He nodded to the men with guns and they quickly pointed them at Peter. "But perhaps, you could be persuaded to leave to spare his life?"

"Whoa, easy there pal." Peter threw his hands up in surrender. "Look, Gamora made it clear that she wants nothing to do with—"

Nage signaled to one of the men with a circular movement of his hand and immediately, two of the thugs pushed Peter to the ground. The third held his head up and the forth aimed the gun.

They were going to execute him right before her.

"This is a family matter." Nage chided Peter. "I suggest you remain silent should you wish to keep your head attached to your neck."

"He has nothing to do with this!" Gamora snapped, stepping in front of Peter and shielding him with her body.

"Gamora, don't—!" Peter snapped, but one of the guns was pressed into her chest, the owner of the weapon glancing at Nage, waiting for a command to fire.

"Wait, wait!" She interjected quickly, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. She'd never felt this nervous before and she knew that it wasn't because she was in danger; it was because of Peter. The Gamora of the past, the one that Thanos had broken and then rebuilt to be a perfect killing machine, would never have batted an eye at the idea of someone innocent dying in the crossfire. She never would've considered dying to protect someone else.

She wasn't that girl anymore though.

"Return with us." Nage said softly, almost pleading. "Lord Thanos, he misses having you by his side."

"Nage," She forced a smile on her lips. "You know why I cannot return."

"You've become soft, my Lady." Nage hissed, his demeanor shifting to something more sinister. "But this is for your own good." He nodded to the thugs and the gun cocked in front of her.

"Kill me then."

"Gamora—!" She ignored the note of hysteria that entered Peter's tone.

"I will not return willingly." She told Nage frankly. Grimacing, she forced the tremor of fear from entering her voice. "Therefore, you have only one choice—you kill me and take me back in a body bag."

At this revelation, Nage grew distressed. He ran a hand through his hair and she could see perspiration on his forehead. Thanos must be desperate to have her back, she deduced, if he had sent someone as inexperienced as Nage out into the field.

Or maybe, he was hoping that her past with Nage would somehow sway her into returning back to that prison Thanos called home.

"Very well," Nage sighed raggedly. "So be it." He nodded to the men.

_Bang._

Her chest exploded into flames. She gasped, immediately placing her hands to the wound on her stomach. Nage had shot her after all, though he changed the direction of the shot so that the wound was not fatal, at least not immediately fatal. She pressed her hands onto the wound, hissing from the bite of the pain. Blood spilled from between her fingers.

"Gamora!" Peter screamed behind her and she glanced back to see him. His eyes were wide, full of panic, like they'd been when they found out Ronan had survived the crash on the Xandar's surface. He broke free of the men's grasps and he was firing his own weapons. She could see him, as he put on his helmet and used his thrusters, though her vision began to cloud.

The four thugs immediately returned fire and through the din of the gunfire, Gamora forced herself to move. She couldn't fight, not like this, and she was vulnerable out in the open. Training cut through the shock and slowly, she began to move.

It wasn't fast enough.

"Lady Gamora," Nage's arm snaked around her waist and a needle was pressed into her neck. "We're going home."

She felt the cool liquid enter her veins and spread like wildfire and immediately, her eyes began to droop. Exhaustion claimed her and she had no strength to break free from Nage's grasp.

"Gamora!" She thought she could hear Peter's voice calling for her, but her body ached too much for her to really process it. Her body wanted her to fall into the blissful oblivion that unconsciousness provided and though she knew that there was a reason that she was supposed to fight it, she couldn't remember it right now.

"Sleep well, my Lady." A voice whispered into her ear.

And then there was nothing.

Nothing but darkness.

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_**Author's Note: **__It's a bit short, I know, but that's because it's only the first chapter. Next chapter, more on Nage and his connection with Gamora, the team arrives too late and a cameo from Thanos. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!_


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